Let it 下雪, let it 雪を降る, let it snow!

 

Snow. Growing up in California, it wasn't something I had a lot of experience with. Temperatures in Sacramento during winter could get low enough on infrequent occasions to freeze the surface of our swimming pool, and dense fog was the norm throughout the season, but it never snowed during the time I lived there. Snow was something I would see far off in the distance (my parents had a great view of the Sierra Nevada mountains from their bedroom window), or on the roofs of cars returning from weekend ski trips in the Lake Tahoe area, but my adolescence during the winter months wasn't filled with making snow angels or snowmen, nor having snowball fights with friends. 

My first direct experience with falling snow didn't come until I moved to Tōkyō 東京 in my late twenties. It didn't snow very often there, nor was the snowfall very heavy (though it was enough at times to paralyze the city. On one memorable occasion, just 20 centimeters/8 inches was enough to bring the capital to a halt. It took my then-wife nine hours to get home by bus from her job in Shibuya 渋谷 to our home in Komae 狛江, a trip which usually was only a half-hour at most, while a colleague of mine had to spend the night on a train car when snow on the tracks brought the line to a halt). But what snow did fall from time to time was for me magical. When the yuki began futteimasu, I would rush outdoors, cold be damned, to take it all in. I was particularly enthralled with the sight of Buddhist temples covered in the white stuff, especially at night. 

As the years went on, my experiences with snow would gather momentum, like a cartoon snowball. On one memorable trip, Shu-E and I spent the Lunar New Year holiday in snow-covered Takayama 高山. The highlight of our visit was a day trip to see the historic gasshō-zukuri 合掌造り houses in the village of Shirakawa-gō 白川郷, on a day when the temperature hovered around the -9°C/16°F mark. At one point we trudged through the snow to a lookout spot, where the view was picture-postcard perfect. The photographs I took of the scene are in an album along with the rest of our household effects in a warehouse in Antwerp, Belgium (I hope), waiting for us to relocate to Beijing 北京 later this year. But the scene looked much like this:

https://www.japan.travel/snow/en/snow-travel/culture-and-history/shirakawa-go/

But despite moments like trying to smoke a Mild Seven while shivering on an outdoor porch in -10°C/14°F temperatures in Matsumoto 松本, it wasn't until we lived in Lithuania that I paid my winter dues. It was there that I learned how to dress for winter, how to drive in the snow (snow tires are mandatory in Lithuania November-March) and how to tread on ice. Well, kind of, as I did slip and fall several times, banging up my elbow on one occasion, but I blame some of this on the fact I had to walk up and down a steep hill every day, as well as on Vilnius' poor Soviet-era drainage. I remember driving my daughter to her Saturday morning swimming class on a day when the temperature was -24°C/-11°F, or going for a long walk outside when it was -19°C/-2°F. It wasn't just cold and icy, as the sun rarely made an appearance during the winter months. But despite being advised by the chief medical officer at the embassy to go somewhere warm and sunny during our winter vacations, we chose instead to visit Finland in February, arriving in Helsinki during a snowstorm, and traveling up to the Arctic Circle to chase the northern lights when it was -20°C/-4°F (see here and here). And none of us minded the weather, never using the "happy lamps" the embassy provided for our housing.

The Baltics may have trained me (as a friend puts it), but two winters in Ethiopia turned me into a wimp again, weather wise. Fortunately, our return to the Washington, D.C. area has coincided (intentionally?) with the most winter-like weather the DMV has seen since the last time we were here. Starting in the late evening of January 2, and continuing throughout the morning of the 3rd, roughly 7 inches/18 centimeters of snow fell in our area (I measured with a ruler the snowpack that had accumulated on the top of our car). It may not sound like much to those from much snowier climes, but more snow fell on the 2nd-3rd in the D.C. area than during the previous two winters combined (it also led to motorists being stranded for hours on Interstate 95):

There aren't any Buddhist temples where I could try to recapture that Japanese winter magic within walking distance of where I live, but the nearby cemetery proved to be suitably atmospheric as I went for a walk that morning:

Our Honda:

My daughter had a snow day off from school. Unfortunately, as I've been doing my training virtually since early July, I still had Chinese classes online as usual. So I put Amber to work clearing the car. It was much easier on this occasion when compared to the last time we were in Falls Church, when we had to dig out from nearly two feet (60 centimeters) of snow:

Afterward we went to Eden Center for a post-snow removal bubble tea:

The following day I went out in the morning to survey the aftermath:

Sub-freezing temperatures meant there was a lot of ice on the ground, the reason why my daughter was still asleep in her heated bedroom while I was outside in the morning chill (her school started two hours late on Tuesday):

Some tree limbs couldn't handle the weight of the snowpack:

We had our second snowfall of the season on Thursday the 6th/Friday the 7th. It was roughly half that of Monday's accumulation (around 3 inches/8 centimeters), but still enough to give the girl her second day off from school that week. I, on the other hand, still had class: 

Amber went out again to clear away the snow from the car, and afterward built this tiny snowman, which she placed on a hedge behind the Honda. But from the way she framed the photo, you would've thought she had built a human-sized figure somewhere in the mountains:

Though I haven't seen any recently, I have noticed a lot of deer tracks in the snow:

Our most recent dusting came yesterday afternoon, after lunch. Just after the flakes began falling, I went outside to have a closer look:

A snowplow parked by a Masonic temple, waiting for the call:

By the time I reached the point on the W&OD Trail where I usually turn around and head back home, my footprints were already disappearing under the snow. According to my phone it was 23°F/-5°C, but was feeling more like 12°F/-11°C:

I wasn't the only one out and about. There were people walking their dogs, as well as joggers and a couple of cyclists who passed by me:

Most people appeared to have heeded the call to stay off the roads on Sunday afternoon:

There was a time when Amber would've been excited to go outside and play in the snow, but on the verge of turning sixteen, she now has a different outlook:

Nonetheless, I forced to go out after dinner, but she wisely wore her mother's winter jacket. According to the ruler we took with us, there was only about an inch (around 2.5 centimeters) of snow on top of the car this time, much to my daughter's relief:

 

And that's how winter has been going two weeks or so into the new year (and quite a change from the warm weather we had enjoyed on our recent trip to Charleston, South Carolina late last month). Though the snowfall hasn't reached Snowmageddon levels, the low temperatures have prevented the accumulation from completely melting away. In fact, the D.C. area had it's coldest day in three years on the 11th, when the brutal wind chill made it feel far colder than the 21°F/-6C my phone app was reading (and, yes, I went outside for my usual morning walk that day). 

Back when I lived in Japan, I used to laugh at the obsession some Japanese appeared to have with the idea that theirs was the only country to have four distinct seasons. Living in Taiwan, however, where 10°C/50°F is a "cold front" and some people bundle up as if they were standing on the Siberian tundra in early January, started me thinking that four seasons was something to be appreciated. The climate in the Washington, D.C. area is similar in many ways to that experienced in much of Japan - warm springs (with Washington also being famous for cherry blossoms 桜!); hot, humid summers; and autumns ablaze with fall colors. And cold, sometimes snowy winters. It might not be Hokkaidō 北海道, or Niigata 新潟, or Minnesota, or Ontario, but for this native Californian it's a winter wonderland to be enjoyed, even if I don't get the day off from work. 

And provided the heat stays on...

Although the video doesn't feature any snow, listening to this track on earphones while walking through our local frozen wasteland seemed very apropos: